Mr. Golden Sun

I am trying to complain less, to thank and praise God more. I am not succeeding. Hidden complaints invade my speech each hour I am realizing. And yet, when I consider my life and all that I have been given, praises should reign in my speech. All the same, if you live here and have seen our weather you will understand this silly song that I keep lifting up as a prayer (another veiled complaint right there). Maybe you will join me.
Mr. Sun, sun Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on me. Lord, remove the clouds and send the sun.